Training techniques
by Amberthepirate
Summary: Steve is trying to get Tony to be a team player, but he doesn't play well with others. By chance, Steve stumbles upon a TV show with loads of tips on how to win trust. The only problem is that Tony isn't a puppy. YET. Slash Steve Rogers/Tony Stark. Fluff ahoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Training techniques**

_**Authors note:**__ good god how long is this? O.o I know I said all other stories were on hold, I just got this idea in my head and it wouldn't go away. So, hence the over 2,000 words you see before you. I'm trying to improve my characterisation of the Avengers, because I feel I don't do them justice. I'd like to write more chapters but I'm not sure, since I already have another story; Who I once was, if you like this, check it out ^^ _

Steve Rogers just couldn't understand what was just so gosh darned hard about following orders. It was as if Tony Stark was out there to undermine his authority at every turn. If he really didn't believe that Steve wasn't capable of leading the Avengers then why didn't he say so when Steve was nominated for the job? Why didn't he put someone else or even himself forward? Steve inwardly sneered, like Stark would ever take some real responsibility. He then backed up a little bit, feeling slightly guilty. Stark was a member of this team and just accepting that was _huge_ responsibility. Plus, Steve hardly knew him, so he couldn't just make assumptions like that. That wasn't fair, but Stark was being unfair. He wasn't allowing Steve to prove himself (which he sure as heck had a thousand times over).

Ironman worked well with Captain America, they understood that petty disagreements just didn't apply on the battlefield so cooperated and were civil, bordering on friendly at times. However, at Stark Tower they existed on the opposite sides of this cold barrier of awkward silences and mutual distrust. If they weren't arguing that is. Now, Steve Rogers didn't consider himself to be this perfect guy who was nice all the time. Nobody could be nice all the time and he could easily list all the things that were wrong with him. Like the fact that he couldn't go shopping for clothes in ordinary stores because they never had his size, or that fact that accidently broke doorknobs when he squeezed them. Also, he knew he'd been unfairly judgemental when he first met Tony Stark. A hurt, frightened, and distressed animal lashes out to protect itself; possibly injuring the innocent and its own body in the process. That's what he'd been like and Steve was ashamed. Ice or no ice decency costs nothing. However, Stark was an impossible, self absorbed, mouthy, workaholic that didn't eat food with the rest of the team and instead drank coffee; buckets of it. Hawkeye made a joke that Stark was really a Cyborg who needed coffee to keep his gears from seizing up. Steve didn't know what a Cyborg was but assumed it wasn't anything good.

Just adapting to the 21st century was difficult enough without Steve having to live in a funny farm. Norse gods, assassins, a hulk, Tony _gosh darn_ Stark and him make one seriously strange mixture. A mixture that was sweet and sour at the same time.

Steve was enjoying a rare moment of peace in front of the TV; he was so relieved that he didn't have to wrestle anyone into submission for the remote. Bruce and tried to introduce rota that allowed everyone their equal share of who gets to pick the channel but after said rota was incinerated with the help of Thor's lightning bolt he gave up and nearly hulked out from seeing Hawkeye being ripped a new one by Natasha. Steve flicked through the channels broadly, game shows, talk shows, soap operas none of which caught his interest. He blushed like a tomato when a near naked woman suddenly appeared on screen; he'd never changed a channel so quickly. What happened next was all by chance, Steve stopped his flicking to take a stretch and so happened to hear what the man on TV was saying. Whoever he was, the man was dressed in what would be described as "comfortable clothing" and was (in Steve's opinion) in need of a haircut. He was in a clearly staged living room with, what appeared to be, a growling bundle of fur.

"**Howya doin viewers?"** the man asked, trying to sound hip.** "Welcome back to Dog meet man" **he gestured with his hand for the audience to _come closer_, and pointed in the direction of the growling fur-ball. It was a puppy.

Steve let out an involuntary "Aww. What's wrong little guy?"

"**See this? This little guy here is the perfect example of dogus domesticus, and right now his senses as being ATTACKED!" **the man yelled dramatically.** "By all sorts of smells, lights and sounds, this poor little buddy is way in over his head and what's worse there's a **_**stranger **_**in the room with him."**

Steve blinked at the TV; there were more than one stranger, if you included the camera crew.

"**He doesn't trust me, and I don't blame him, after all I am pretty strange!" **

There was a hollow sound of phoned in laugher. It made Steve cringe

"**But I'm gonna show him that old Dexter means him no harm! Now, it's extremely important that you guys don't try this at home." **Dexter gave the camera a serious look. **"Old Dexter is a professional! So don't you go and try this on your granddad's Rottweiler!"**

The hollow laugher sounded again and it was almost enough to make Steve change the channel. Dexter had gotten down onto his hands and knees and was peering into the lens.

"**First thing we gotta do, is get down to **_**his level,**_** this makes us look less like a **_**threat**_**." **He crawled slowly towards the puppy, who still looked pretty angry. **"You see that? He's calmer already! I'm on the same energy wave length as him, but we've still got a ways to go."**

For a moment Dexter was still, the puppy then began to squirm from its space. It then began to shuffle nervously over to the man on the floor. Steve watched transfixed while the puppy poked Dexter with its little brown nose. It growled a few times, making out it was gonna bite him, but it didn't.

"**Keep watching folks, because this next part is** **crucial, the point of no return,** **if this goes wrong than this little guy may NEVER trust another human being again."**

Steve was taken aback, Wow, never again? He hoped nothing went wrong; for the puppy's sake.

"**Here we go."** Dexter took lifted up his arm with two finger's outstretched; he took a very exaggerated deep breath and approached the puppy who was sniffing at a chair leg. The two fingers were then placed on the back of the puppy's neck, who turned its head towards Dexter and snarled quietly. "**This is excellent; this is just a perfect reaction**. **Good boy." **he very carefully stroked the back of the puppy's neck with his fingers.

To Steve's surprise the baby animal relaxed and even seemed to be enjoying the touch. He was happy it was okay.

"**This is what it's all about folks! But let's take it one step further."** Dexter produced a leash. **"The bond is newly formed and fragile, so I cannot afford to rush things, in case we take a step backwards. I' m gonna let my little buddy here make him own choice."** The leash was shoved under the puppy's nose for him to sniff; the puppy stared at it then started to chew on it, yelping happily. Dexter cried out in triumph. **"Great choice little buddy! Old Dexter hasn't lost his touch-"**

The sound of footsteps alerted Steve that his TV session was over, Clint AKA Hawkeye practically jogged into the living room; sticky with sweat from his workout with Thor. He smelled like a gym too.

"Hey." He said lightly. He then nodded at the screen. "Cute puppy, is that animal planet?"

Steve turned to face the archer, because it was rude to talk to somebody without looking at them. "Yeah I guess he is, umm animal what now?" Clint sighed and shook his head, he was too tired to explain to Steve what it was and that was okay. He'd find out later anyway. "I wish we had a puppy." Clint said wishfully, gazing at the screen with his blue sometimes grey-green eyes. "But Stark would never let us have one. Jerk." He huffed and shuffled into the kitchen for a drink of something cold. Steve got up from the couch. "It is his tower, speaking of which, umm where is he?"

The archer's head tilted his head back as he drained a crystal glass of orange juice, his adam's apple bounced up and down as he quenched his thirst. He finally wiped his mouth with his arm. "Who Stark? In his lair probably." Clint shrugged. "That's always where he seems to be."

Steve looked at his watch; it was 4:00 pm exactly. He remembered seeing Stark stumbled tiredly into the bowels of his lab at 10:30 am. He'd been down there far too long, and it was far too quiet. He sighed quietly to himself and clicked his tongue. "Stark..." He turned on his heel and strode towards the infamous lab; he heard Clint's voice behind him. "I wouldn't go there if I were you!" Steve chuckled and called back over his shoulder. "If I'm not back in 15 minutes send a search party for me!" the weird thing is that he was half serious.

Steve really didn't know what he'd find in Stark's lab, he imagined some boiling hot or freezing cold dark hovel with flickering lights overhead accompanied by a forest of wires and dangling robotic limbs creating a bizarre canopy above. What he sees is a well lit large room with white walls and slanted windows that are filled with sunlight from the outside. The entire place is littered with robots of various shapes and sizes, some beeping away to themselves and some are reduced to their outer shells and a few pieces of hard drive. Steve recognised Dummy, a quirky little bot which seemed to be in a love-hate relationship with its creator. He could relate, although at times it seemed like hate-hate. Then he remembered what he'd come down here for: to look for Stark, dead or alive and bring back to the real world. He noticed a person hunched over at a desk covered in blueprints and papers. Beautiful blue holograms hovered above him and were moved and adjusted with the slightest flick of his hand, like a conductor commanding his musical orchestra. Stark was in his own down here, this was his place, and Steve felt like an intruded_, a stranger_.

He swiftly matched passed Dummy who beeped at him with curiosity and made a grab for his pants. Steve was too quick.

"Shut up Dummy or I'll repurpose you as a towel rack." The voice was slurred slightly with tiredness.

Steve stood directly behind Stark and watched his scribble and occasionally type. The man moved like lighting, digits flying all over the place doing ten different things at once. He couched lightly to announce his presence.

"Rogers is that you? You creepy stalker." Stark asked dryly without turning around.

Steve's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "How did you know?" it was hard not to sound impressed. Stark sighed a little. "Bruce always knocks because-he's-nice-like-that, Clint makes a lot of noise which is not good for an assassin, and Thor and Natasha have never been in here and if they did I'd have to install booby-traps" he swivelled around on his chair coolly to look at Steve. "Then there's you." He looked Steve up and down with his eyes, as if he had just found a dead rat in his sock draw. "Mr Awkward polite no sex please I'm 90 years old, seriously who coughs like that anymore?"

Steve, despite himself, felt his tongue get caught in his mouth and his face reddened at the mention of the word "sex". Stark just said it like it was nothing. A month ago he would've retorted with some (what he considered) equally insulting comment, possibly about whatever that thing was in Stark's chest. What was it called? Oh yeah the Arc reactor. Instead, Steve offered a patient look, and Stark gave a confused one. He was clearly expecting a fight, but he wasn't going to get one. He needed to eat or sleep or something.

"Tony." Steve started. "You've been down here for hours, it's just not healthy, I l know it's a regular thing for you but it shouldn't be. Come upstairs, get something to eat. When I got the groceries I picked up that cheese that you like so much for some reason."

There was an easy silence, Stark slowly raised a dark over his...wait, blue eyes? No, it had to be the light. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then decisively turned back to his desk with a huff. "Thanks but no thanks captain. Close the door on your way out." His tone wasn't quite angry or even unpleasant, just annoyed. Steve for some reason felt the images from the TV flash up in his mind, he could hear Dexter's voice.

"_But I'm gonna show him that old Dexter means him no harm!"_

Steve didn't leave; he tilted his head at Stark as he continued to work all the while refusing to acknowledge his presence and possibly his existence.

"_First thing we gotta do, is get down to his level, this makes us look less like a threat."_

Steve looked around the lab space for another chair; he spotted one by the window and dragged to over to where Tony was sitting. Steve waited for him to object, and when he didn't, he took it as permission to stay. However, knowing Stark, he was probably too absorbed in his work to notice. Steve bit his lip, at a loss as what his plan of action was. Once again, that peculiar TV popped into his mind, Dexter's techniques seemed but Stark was _not_ a puppy. Not even close. It couldn't hurt to try though. Steve mentally prepared himself and, very, very slowly reached out his hand towards the back of Tony's neck.

"_This next part is crucial; the point of no return, if this goes wrong than this little guy may NEVER trust another human being again." _

Tony's skin was cool, and Steve could really feel the tiny hairs standing on end when Tony felt the touch. His body was suddenly tense and his back suddenly straight.

"W-what-"

Steve's worked his fingers in a slow circular motion just under Tony's hairline and with his thumb he stroked a loose black curl. "Come upstairs Tony."

"You're a weirdo! I-err-get-" he brought his shoulder and cheek together and tried to get away from the invasive Steve without moving from his seat. His ears were going red. Finally he heaved a grunt of frustration and yelled at the ceiling "Jarvis!"

"YES SIR?"

Steve nearly jumped two feet in the air, he so wasn't used to Jarvis's voice yet. Having an AL living in the ceiling was a foreign concept; he also wondered whether Jarvis watched him when he showered.

"I can't believe I'm being violated here and you're not doing anything, also...what time it it?"

"4:13 SIR."

Tony grumbled something under his breath about star spangled perverts then got up from his seat and walked right passed Steve and towards the door. "I was gonna get some more coffee anyway." Steve practically skipped after him, Stark did what he'd asked him! And for once, there was no argument. Maybe Steve would check out that TV show again some time. Dexter may have appalling Latin skills but he sure knew how to handle uncooperative animals.


	2. Author's note PLEASE READ

**Training techniques**

**Authors note:** Hi guys ^^ firstly I'd like to thank you for all the reviews and support and such, you guys are what keeps me writing these silly stories. Secondly, sadly, I have to inform that I'm leaving this story as it is and will not be adding to it. As you know I have another story which is keeping me busy and I honestly have no idea when it's going to end. Anyway, you're welcome to continue this story yourselves, as long as you give me credit for the first part, write away ^^ once again, thank you all.

Yours truly

_Amber the pirate _


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